


Quiet Uptown

by irishlullaby13



Series: Aflame [2]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Dark!Ichabod, F/M, Reunion, depressed ichabod, ichabbie - Freeform, season finale fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:27:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6508513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishlullaby13/pseuds/irishlullaby13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was on the porch again.  It was even worse than when Abbie had disappeared for that month.  He was seated in the swing, sipping whatever it was he always drank while he and Abbie had enjoyed the crisp autumn days.  He was talking quite enthusiastically to the empty seat close to the swing.  After a few minutes he raised his glass and looked down shyly.</p>
<p>When he raised his head, one could see the sudden jerk of his body as he realized... <i>Abbie wasn't there</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Uptown

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to Aflame.
> 
> Title comes from the Hamilton soundtrack because as I wrote a few parts of this all I could hear was the lines "If you see him in the street, walking by Himself, talking to himself, have pity." in my head.
> 
> Also, if there is a season 4--and should any of the ptb are lurking *glares* THIS FIC CAN PROVIDE A VAGUE OUTLINE FOR SAID SEASON since you royally arsed the last one.

Sharon stared out of window at the neighbour. He was on the porch again. It was even worse than when Abbie had disappeared for that month. He was seated in the swing, sipping whatever it was he always drank while he and Abbie had enjoyed the crisp autumn days. He was talking quite enthusiastically to the empty seat close to the swing. After a few minutes he raised his glass and looked down shyly.

When he raised his head, one could see the sudden jerk of his body as he realized... _Abbie wasn't there_.

Rumour had it, she had disappeared for that month because she was seeking some kind of medical treatment. Abbie had called it a “retreat” but the hollowness in her eyes gave away that it wasn't the pleasant kind. 

Sharon and the other neighbours had tried to take care of him when they found out Abbie had died. But there were some kind of grievances that were hard to relate to. What did you say to a man that had lost the woman he cleared loved? _Oh it'll be fine. It'll get better..._ Yeah, you only said that if you wanted to get escorted off the property or shouted at or be privy to a grown man breaking down in tears.

Beth at the end of the street had made that mistake and gotten all three. 

The family that lived next to the Mills residence said they had caught him in the back yard laughing and leading an invisible figure in a masterful waltz and ended it with a playful “And now you see that I can, indeed dance.” Supposedly he had bowed to his partner then suffered a breakdown again.

The light in Abbie's bedroom stayed on until all hours of the night almost every day.

It was hard seeing him in such a state. Abbie's sister and father had been so concerned that they left their numbers with everyone _just in case_ they saw anything outside of the endless discussions he had with Abbie's ghost.

Sharon's heart couldn't handle seeing him bury his face in his hands and start sobbing on the porch so she turned away and pulled the curtains.

  
#  


Joann stopped as she heard his voice approaching.

“I never did get the chance to commend you on your selecting such a lovely neighbourhood Lieutenant,” he was saying. Joann hauled ass back into her yard and onto her porch to make it look like she was tending one of her rose bushes before he rounded the corner. “How could you possibly say that? You had no idea whether I would be returning or not.” He paused as _they_ strode by, judging by his posture they were arm-in-arm. When he spoke again his voice was softer and more affectionate. “Then I suppose I must also commend you on your faith in me... No, no, you have commented on my faith in you but you cannot deny that yours in me is just as, if not, even stronger.” He stopped just at the edge of the property line. “You seemed to think I could live this life without you by my side. I don't think I can.”

Joann's hand when to her pocket for her phone. She had Mister Mills' number on speed dial, just like everyone else on the street. After slinking into the house she hit the button and within a few second Ezra was on the other end of the line.

“Sorry to bother you Mister Mills but... he's walking the streets talking to her again.”

“I'll be right over,” the other man said gently.

  
#  


He had seen that look on lesser men's faces. The look of raw desperation of man eager to greet Death. The irony was not lost to him that Ichabod Crane was literally greeting _him_ the Horseman of Death. His arms open wide as he shouted, “If you think I am scared to face you again, Abraham Van Brunt, you are mistaken!”

The sister of Ichabod's fallen love and an older man tried to pull him away as Abraham slowly walked his horse toward them. It would be so easy to take all their heads. However, it was far more entertaining to see his former brother in arms writhing from the inside out. He deserved it, Abraham couldn't help but think.

He led his horse past them, heading for the bridge that would take him outside of town. It wasn't until he felt a weight attack his arm that he was aware that Ichabod had broken away from the other two. Ichabod hung from his arm, eyes wide with desperation.

“Do not dare run away from this fight you coward,” Ichabod ground out.

It was such a beautiful thing to see him like this. _Hurting. Desperate. Longing for Death to take his head._

Abraham just put a boot to Ichabod's gut and forced him away, knocking him to the ground. Oh, one of them was certainly a coward, just not him. He continued on his way back to his lair. Sunrise was rapidly approaching and he didn't have time for melodramatics.

  
#  


Jenny looked up as Ichabod entered the Archives. There was a wicked gleam in his eyes. Blood was splattered all over his clothes and face—how the hell no one in the general public had noticed was amazing. Then again he was carrying a huge ass sword wrapped in an equally bloodied sheet so they probably just thought he had accidentally severed one of his limbs.

“What is that?” Jenny asked.

“ _This_ Miss Jenny is a very important tool in our fight against Moloch and his hordes,” Ichabod proclaimed. His focus went to his right and below the level of his shoulder, he was beaming brightly. He gasped slightly and set the sword down on the table to mop at his face with his hand. “Yes... yes... I do imagine it didn't look at all well for me to be in such a state...”

He was talking to Abbie again. Sometimes Jenny thought she could see her two. Such as, right now, she could almost perfectly picture Abbie standing at his side, giving her an affectionate look that said, 'Can you believe this idiot?'

“Crane,” Jenny said slowly. 

He looked at her. His eyes were tired and tormented. He had more white streaks in his hair than the week before. “Yes, I know they are delusions, Miss Jenny. As long as I am aware, there is no real harm in my... pretending your sister is helping me work through situations.”

She shook her head. “No... Crane. It's the fact _she_ noticed the blood and you didn't. That's why I am concerned.”

Crane sucked in a breath, his eyes falling to the sword again. “Perhaps I simply noticed the blood myself without realizing it and 'she' mentioned it?”

Jenny shrugged non-committally. “So what's so special about this sword?” She peeled back the sheet and reached out to touch the blade. 

Crane grasped her wrist tightly. His eyes had practically turned to steel and his jaw twitched as he clenched it. “It is advisable that you do not touch the blade, Miss Jenny,” he said in a low, almost growl-like tone. She tried to pull away but his grasp held true. “We have no idea what it is capable of.”

She nodded. “Okay. Don't touch the sword. Got it. Can you let go?”

He gasped softly and blinked as he released her wrist. “My... apologies Miss Jenny. I... do not know what came over me.”

“It's okay. I'll just leave you alone to find out what is special about it,” she said. She wanted to ask where all the blood had come from but she figured he would give her a half answer. That's all he ever gave her. He didn't give her long history lessons like he used to give Abbie—hell, still gave Abbie.

She didn't even dare ask him if he had started searching for the so called 'replacement' witness. That conversation never ended well.

  
#  


It was something else seeing Crane in all black, Daniel couldn't help but think. He wondered just how the hell he managed to keep a roof over his head since Abbie was gone, much less afford a speciality wardrobe.

“Shut up, Danny,” Sophie said, even though he hadn't said it aloud. “I can tell what you're thinking just by looking at you... and just shut up. She loved him, that's all that matters.”

They wouldn't even be here if both Mister Mills and Jenny had said they didn't feel right about taking Abbie's post-humour award. Both had suggested presenting it to Crane... since he knew her best. Maybe it would help him “get some closure.” Apparently the guy was scaring a few of the locals by still trying to talk to her.

“Everyone's said he's gone off the deep end, Sophie,” Daniel pointed out.

“All the more reason for you to shut up,” she shot back. “Come on.”

The pair got out of the black suv and made their way to the door. It was Daniel who knocked. After a few minutes the door creaked open and Crane peered out at them. “May I help you?” he asked listlessly.

To say the man looked terrible was an understatement. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks and had contracted some kind of deadly disease—even more hollowed eyed than the last time they had seen him a few months back, paler, a thin sickly sheen was on the apples of his cheeks and forehead. Daniel actually felt bad for the guy.

It must be one of his “bad days.”

“If you are here to investigate further on Abbie's death...” he said dully.

Sophie shook her head. “No... no... nothing like that,” she said quickly.

Crane stepped back and opened the door to grant them entry. “Then by all means, do come in.”

It was weird seeing Crane without his trademark cockiness and know-it-all jut of his chin. The first thing about the house Daniel noticed was that it was abnormally dark. Curtains were drawn, only a solitary light was on shining down from Abbie's room at the top of the stairs. Well, almost all the curtains. One was open just enough to cast daylight on a chessboard that still had several pieces in play.

Crane stared in the direction of the board a long moment, his mouth gently moving as if carrying on a conversation in his own head. Then he smiled weakly, eyes filling with tears which he promptly swallowed down before turning to address them, sweeping his hand toward the living room. “Please make yourself comfortable. May I offer you a beverage?”

Both Daniel and Sophie declined as they took a seat in the living room. Crane visibly tensed when Daniel made to sit in a rocking chair positioned close to the sofa. _Abbie's chair_. Daniel quickly changed his aim for the arm of the sofa.

“Enjoying your game of chess?” Daniel asked, nodding toward the table on the other side of the foyer.

Crane smiled faintly. “Ah, yes,” he said quietly. “I am losing quite terribly to a ghost of all things.” He gave a faint smile which quickly faded away.

Sophie and Daniel shared a look when he uncharacteristically lower himself to sit on the floor. Five months and he was even more lost than they remembered. “Any luck on finding anything out about the new horseman?”

Crane tilted his head toward the chessboard. Another smile ghosted his lips and he shook his head. “He is... the Horseman of Conquest from the book of Revelations. Other than that, I know nothing more than I knew from day one.” He got a far away look in his eyes and an almost sadist smile graced his lips. “He who rides forth to conquer.”

“You okay, Crane?” Sophie asked.

He shook his head to clear it. “I'm fine... I'm fine. So what brings the two of you here this afternoon?”

“Once a year,” Daniel said. “The Bureau gives out an award for 'Outstanding Dedication and Service'... Not really anything special. Abbie was nominated before she...” He swallowed hard when he saw the ache in Crane's eyes that matched his own. “Anyway... they didn't want to retract the nomination and... she won.”

“Normally the next of kin or a surviving spouse will accept the award,” Sophie added. “But... we wanted to see if you would accept it.”

Sophie handed over the small plaque. Crane cradled it in his hands as though it was the most precious thing on the planet. His thumb gently caressed her name on the plaque. “If the Lieutenant were here... I believe she would insist she did not deserve such an honour for she was simply doing her job.” His head turned toward the chess game. His eyes danced with amusement and an actual smile appeared. “Amongst other things.”

Daniel glanced toward Sophie. She looked close to tears herself. She shifted off of the sofa and knelt down next to Crane to hug him as he clutched the plaque to his chest and began to sob. Daniel couldn't do anything but look down at his hands in shame. At this moment he wished there was something he could do. Something to assure Ichabod that Abbie was in a much better place.

But, all things considered, Daniel wasn't even sure if such a place even existed.

When he and Sophie returned to the suv. They shared a look.

Sophie nodded. “I'll start keeping an eye on him.”

  
#  


So far Sophie had found out he had taken to only leaving the house at night. It was amazing how helpful the neighbours could be. Most of the time he left out through the back door and snuck to the neighbouring subdivision. And he always had that sword strapped to his hip, tucked underneath his coat.

She had lost him a couple of times. But then she realized he always went to the same place, just took different routes. She didn't want to report anything until she knew exactly what he was doing. However, most of the time he seemed to disappear before she could get close enough to see. But not tonight.

Tonight she was waiting for him there, tucked away between some bushes near the spot his footprints disappeared. Like clockwork, he arrived just before midnight. He was walking with his hands behind his back and a little pep in his step. “Just remember, we must get the incantation absolutely perfect. Did you bring the journal? Oh, right, of course. Non-corporal being. But not for much longer my dear Lieutenant, do not fret. I am certain we are growing closer.”

Sophie couldn't help but shake her head. Even in his head Abbie had little time for his bullshit. She would laugh if it wouldn't give her away. Unless... had he accidentally summoned a demon again? No, this didn't seem like the case. He was just a crazy man talking to his deceased partner.

“Ready for another evening of slaying demons?” Ichabod asked. “Yes I do realize it is hardly fair when they kneel at our feet. However, we have successfully chartered our way through seven of the nine circles of hell. Oh come now, Abbie, you and I are well aware they are not all bad. Do you not recall Valhalla? Yes... that was as much of a surprise to me as it was you. I thought it was a Heavenly realm as well.”

He flipped through pages in a small book. Then he withdrew the sword from the scabbard at his hip. Sophie's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as Crane held the sword up and the blade burst into flames. _No_...

He started reciting something from the book. A large archway appeared and two heavy iron doors slowly swung open. Sophie struggled to write down what he was saying so she could translate it easier. Her eyes roamed over the words. _No... no, no, no, no_...

“Ah, yes...” Crane said. “This is the very one I was fearing.” He sighed heavily. “Things are about to get very unpleasant in Sleepy Hollow.”

The ground trembled when the doors finished opening. An ungodly noise emitted from deep within. Crane tucked the book into his coat pocket then strode purposely forward with the sword still in hand. Sophie only started to panic when the doors didn't close behind him and she could see creatures beginning to crawl their way out.

She dug her phone from her pocket and dialled Jenny's number. “Jenny... we have a huge problem.”

“What? What is it? Was it something to do with that earthquake a few minutes ago?” Jenny asked.

“Yeah,” Sophie replied. “Good news, I found out who Conquest is.”

“If that's the good news what the hell is the bad news?”

“It's Crane.” Sophie made a mad dash for her car parked the next block over. “And that's not the worst part.”

“There's worse news?” Jenny yelped. “What the hell could be worse than Crane turning into one of the bad guys?”

Sophie laughed bitterly as she looked down at her notepad. “He apparently is also the lord and master of the hordes of hell. And he left the gateway to it wide open.”

  
#  


Abbie's eyes fluttered open as she felt tentative fingers on her cheek. A smile spread across her lips as she saw Crane sitting on the edge of the bed. She was in her room at her house. The sun was shining in through the windows. It felt like forever since she had been here. “Hey you,” she greeted sleepily. She captured his hand and kissed his fingers. “I was wondering when you would get here.”

“I've already been here for hours,” Ichabod replied gently. He stood to retrieve a tray from the night stand, laden with a lavish breakfast, as she sat up and scooted back against the headboard. “Breakfast in bed for my lady.”

She grinned as he settled the tray over her lap. “And it's right back to the spoiling me,” she laughed. She tucked in to the breakfast. He reclaimed his perch at he edge of the bed. “Not bad for a guy who sold his soul, took over hell, stole his soul back, and... found his way to me.”

“So you are well aware of my journey here?” Crane asked

Abbie nodded. She stopped eating and cupped his cheek. “I also know you can't go back. And you knew that when you told Jenny and Sophie how to defeat you.”

“When I discovered I had been misled about returning you to the mortal world, there was but only one option,” Crane said. He put his hand over hers and kissed her palm. “An eternity without _you_ is not an eternity I wish to have part in.”

“You do realize there is a big gapping hole where Sleepy Hollow _and_ Tarrytown used to be right?” Abbie asked.

Crane fidgeted for a moment, closed his eyes, and sighed. “I will have you know, if they had listened to my instructions, that would not have happened. Only... half of Sleepy Hollow would be gone.”

Good news was, almost everyone was okay. Other than a few people who refused to evacuate the area, Crane had been the only casualty. But that had been his intention. 

Abbie moved the tray from over her lap and set it on the bed. “Since you're here...”

“ _Finally_.”

“Finally,” Abbie echoed, laughter in her voice. “I feel like there's something you've been waiting to say to me.”

Crane took her face in his hands. “Grace Abigail Mills,” he said after a moment. “You are by far one of the most incredible, kindest, and most precious souls to ever exist. I am proud to have not only been fated to fight by your side but to have had the honour to know you... and to love you. And I look forward to the chance to fall in love with you all over again.”

“You know, they say you're not supposed to be able to cry here,” Abbie replied, fighting back the swell of emotions threatening to over take her. “But, damn... I think I'm going to.” She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She grasped Crane's wrists and moved his hands away from her face so she could lean forward and softly whisper, “I love you too” against his lips just before she kissed him.

  
#  


_Many years from now_...

He felt so out of place. Awkward. He was never going to get used to America. Not to mention his accent made him stick out like a sore thumb in Dodge City, Kansas. His hands fidgeted at his sides as he waited for his host family to meet him at the bus station. And just who had thought it would be a good idea to do a study abroad program?

Oh right, he had. He had actually begged his parents to let him do it. Although part of him felt like it was a mistake to finish high school in the US. And why had he chosen Kansas? One of his friends had chosen somewhere a little closer to actual civilization, but something had compelled him to come to this place. So far all he had seen was miles and miles of corn fields, as far as the eye could see. And cattle trucks. Hopefully he wouldn't have to see nor smell either for some time.

“Sorry I'm late!” a voice chimed behind him. He whirled around to face the girl. She was close to his own age, surprisingly. He was overcome by the feeling of _familiarity_ with her even though he knew he had never seen her before. Yet, her face seem familiar as well, as though he had seen it in a dream or another life.

“The truck broke down on the way so I had to beat the engine with a hammer.” She held out her hand, her dark eyes twinkling. “Grace Abigail, but you can call me Abbie. My parents sent me to pick you up.”

Beautiful name for a beautiful girl, he wanted to say. Instead he took her hand as a gentleman should and bowed deeply over it. “It is a pleasure Miss Abigail. I am Ichabod Crane.”

“Let's get you to the farm,” she said quietly. 

Even in the poor lighting of the bus station, he could see a blush creeping to her brown skin. It was funny how in just those few seconds he found himself completely smitten by her beautiful smile. Wait... had she said farm?

“Farm?”

Abbie nodded. “My family owns and operates quite a few of the corn fields just outside of town. Hope you like corn because we actually eat it a lot.”

She swept toward the exit. He grabbed up his bags and hurried after her. “You're... you're joking, right?” he called after her. She just cast a glance over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow at him before pushing the door open. But then she grinned and proceeded out the door.


End file.
